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toadmancer · 1 year

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Sliding into a new body was like putting on a brand new coat, if the coat weighed a buck-fifty and had its own muscle memory and fought against being worn. So not very much like putting on a coat at all, but Harlow Beck had been doing this–inhabiting scraped bodies–for so long now that it might as well have been the same. Step one: squash the repulsion the body experienced when it realized Beck wasn't its real self. Step two: extend her own control all the way down to pinky fingers and little toes, if the body was lucky enough to still have them all. Step three: make the body's muscle memory Beck's muscle memory, so she wasn't surprised when her new feet knew which stair squeaked and her new hands opened a door that otherwise stuck.

It was easy now that she'd done it a few dozen times.

This body was new, recently scraped. Maybe its old self was being prepped for bodiless stasis. Even though Beck was an old hand at this now, reentering stasis was like being submerged deep in the ocean–dark, heavy, suffocating. She recovered quickly, but those first few moments were never fun. The more likely scenario for the body's consciousness, though, was that it had been popped into a temp machine and interrogated until the disc the consciousness was on wore thin. People didn't get scraped and slotted for being good people.

It was a young man, thirty at the very oldest, with knobby limbs and sharp ribs and pale, lank hair; bloodshot eyes and patchy facial hair greeted Beck when she looked in the mirror. Whoever had been in charge of the body hadn't cared for it properly; even freshly scraped bodies were given a month or so to flush out any narcotics and alcohol, so while the body looked like it had been through the ringer, the most likely explanation was that its caretaker was slacking off. Even its mouth was dry. How hard was it to remind a nonautonomous body to drink water?

Luckily, the tiny room Beck woke up in had an even tinier en suite bathroom that was well stocked. She took off the paper gown she'd woken up in and crumpled it up and tossed it in the bin. A funny little piece of modesty the higher-ups insisted on, as if this wasn't Beck's body until they decided she was done with it, and if they didn't want her to stink or her kidneys to fail she was going to see it all eventually. The body had a single tattoo, a big flower under the left pectoral, warped slightly by the way its ribs stuck out. Body hair dark and sparse. Narrow hips, knobby knees, ten toes. Nothing unexpected, like third nipples or a hemipene.

Beck inhaled and exhaled deeply. It felt good to breathe again. It felt good to scratch an itch on the body's stomach, to raise its hands up into the air and stretch its arms. Her arms, now. That was always difficult to get used to, thinking of every new body as herself. She could scarcely remember what her original body was like.

The shower was an automatic, sprayed her with lukewarm water as soon as she stepped in and made her jump. Beck cranked the temperature up until it scalded, then down just a little. Her new skin was already turning pink. She took the bottle of 3-in-1 shampoo off the tiny shelf–spare no expense–and let the body get to work. Cleaning itself was an easy way to see how much of the body's muscle memory still functioned, and it meant Beck could let her mind–herself, really, wander. Wonder. The body lathered shampoo into its hair and scratched sharp nails into its scalp. Patted a rag gently over the flower, even if it wasn't newly tender anymore. Did the flower mean something? It had long, thin, colorless petals–a lily, maybe, but Beck didn't know a lot about flowers. She'd grown up on a station, middeck; decorative vegetation had been hard to come by.

Where she was now wasn't much better than a station: a ship in some planet's thermosphere, belonging to either a company with no finances or run by a cheapskate, with the way the dodgy gravity drive made Beck's stomach swoop every once in a while and the water hitting the tile under her feet bounced back up and floated for a second or so before splashing back down. Not to mention the barebones accommodations–not that Beck planned to stay long once debriefed, but a cup of coffee or even strong tea would've been nice to wake up to. Her mouth tasted like paper.

She let the body finish up, and when its routine stopped at getting out of the shower, she made it go back to the sink and shave and rinse its face. It took initiative again to brush its teeth with a hard-bristle brush and tasteless paste, and when it was done it lowered its chin and looked into the mirror with its big, doleful eyes. Its roots were showing. Beck almost laughed–that was as clear a request as anything.

"Sure, sure," she said, pulling its–her head back up to make sure she hadn't missed a spot shaving. Her new voice was soft, huskier than she'd imagined, a little put-on like it'd been made that way out of practice and was now a habit. Her real voice, the one that belonged to Harlow Beck only, that she thought in and carried with her through every slot and stasis cycle, was by comparison orative, though not much higher in pitch. It would still take some getting used to.

Back in the tiny bedroom, someone had come in during her shower and laid out clothes on the bed. A simple outfit: sleeveless undershirt, matching powder-blue sweatshirt and pants, briefs, crew socks and slippers. They were much softer than she expected, and there was a little emblem stitched just above the hem of the sweatshirt: three upside down triangles, one inside the next. Beck didn't recognize it; likely it was the symbol of whoever her current employer was. Right as she pulled on the second slipper, the room's only other door slid open with a crisp ssst sound.

The first thing Beck noticed about the person who entered was how purely red their suit was, not crimson or ruby or wine, just #FFOOOO red. The second thing was that their triple-triangle insignia was part of the suit jacket's design rather than just a small emblem; the bold, horizontal line of the outermost triangle made their shoulders look broader, and the inner triangles were double lapels. The third thing was the rest of their appearance: round face, small eyes and ears, flat nose. A cloud of black, curly hair. Warm brown skin and a constellation of freckles. When they smiled, it deepened their crow's feet.

"Good evening," they said. Their voice was a little nasally but not unpleasantly so. "My name is Devin Shrike. I'll be your handler while you're cooperating with the Blue Skies For All Campaign."

Suit's a little red for that, isn't it?

"It's nice to meet you," said Beck, and shook Shrike's hand when it was offered. A common enough greeting–some people wanted her to bow or kneel or tap her forehead three times, but those were rarer every time she slotted.

"Is there anything I can do to help you acclimate?" Shrike asked, and Beck immediately pointed at her own hair, the smudge of black above the bleach.

"Cut and color, please," she answered. It was best to be polite with handlers; even ones that started out nice could get real mean when results didn't spring up fast enough for their employer. "Oh, and something to drink, too, please. My mouth feels like sand."

"Of course." The lines at the corners of Shrike's eyes deepened further. "Would you like to come with me? I can show you the ship on the way."

Beck didn't see much point to that. Once her hair was fixed and she had a drink, she'd go right to debriefing, and from there she'd hop into a pod and get dropped out of the ship's belly like a bird laying an egg. She'd be planetside in minutes, and then work started for real. She said, "Sure," to be polite.

#thinkin bout sharing brain......... how do u right align in a tumblr text post..... idk #im gonna make a new blog to post wip bs brb #storytime with sarah #wip posting

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gayness-and-mayhem · 1 year

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Sarah Lancashire has awakened...feelings.

#Ok so turns out I never watched Last Tango from the beginning so I'm putting that right but like also #I can't focus on much apart from Sarah Lancashire #Granted I have had one small gin and lemonade but I know that it would be almost exactly the same if I hadn't #Anyway that aside I am loving it so that's good #All my faves are in it so no complaints 😂😂#Also I'm so glad it's set in Yorkshire bc things set in Yorkshire are literally the best #That makes it sound like I didn't know it was set in Yorkshire which obviously I did I just like it that's all #I think there was more gin in my drink than I thought lol #I also can't finish my sudoku which is incredibly frustrating - might have to go and get my colouring book and pens #Last Tango in Halifax #Sarah Lancashire #Text post #Personal

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stewyhosseini-bf · 1 year

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ah fuck let's try again - 1-2, 8, 16, 22-25, 31? hehe

ohh okay let's go let's go !!

1. favorite pairing (that could actually work if they got their shit together)

easy. kenstewy but idk if it counts bc well as we all know. they have been boyfriends in the PAST. but i guess work again now, them!!

2. favorite pairing (cringe fail edition)

easy, tomshiv. no one does cringefail marriage like them, truly truly. i think about them. often and much. and they mean a lot to me actually

8. how do you think the show will end?

really hard one !!! well for one, Logan has to die by the end or else the show can't end. OR they all cut him off but that won't happen. any other way they are still going to be influenced by him and the show can't end.. I truly don't see any roy sibling becoming CEO, or at least not become CEO and be happy... it's so hard honestly I think about it a lot bc i have no idea! Jesse Armstrong is gonna come up w something insane that i could only dream about!

16. logan moment that made you the most homicidal

s 1-3 of succession tbh i can't pin it down further than that i think

22. favorite literary allusions or intertexts

I think the crime & punishment and Kendall s2 parallels are VERY interesting to uncover and think about ! love the nero sporus stuff too, they were insane for that...

23. least favorite thing about the show (hard mode: not comfrey)

that they sidelined Jess in s3 and instead gave comfrey such a big role (is this cheating idk. but it pisses me off). if jess is not more prominant in s4 i'm gonna be pissed.

24. dream guest star

easy. Andrew Garfield as one of Kendall & Stewy's college friends who one or both of them might or might not have had a thing with

25. favorite performance (can split into lead, supporting, and guest if you want to be a coward about it)

ok i'll be a coward but even like this it's fucking HARD to choose but if i HAVE to.: Jeremy Strong as Kendall. sorry for being basic...

supporting Arian Moayed as Stewy immediately comes to mind the way he can make me care this much about a character with MAYBE. like 60 minutes of screentime in the whole show is insane. but also right now actually wanna give Alan Ruck props he's actually so fucking good in that role. idk, very hard to pick!!

guest maybe Cherry Jones as Nan... that woman is real to me, that's just a real person idk how to explain that but yeah.. very good!

31. sexuality headcanons

I've extensively talked about my queer kendall hc or like what I deem some .. if not proof then examples of allusion to that in canon, so there's that! also gerri to me is bi and has been since she said the 'i have a sexual affair with your mother and she talks in her sleep' to Tom, idk.. ! it's kinda hard cause they put in a lot of stuff about so many characters where it's like .. would this even be considered a total headcanon still if there is actual stuff you can point to in canon idk... shiv being bi probably is another big one..

#for the last one like. mentioning tom or roman like doesn't even make sense that's just fully in the text but also kendall to me is like #very real and part of the text as well but then i don't actually know .. like it might just be and my ragtag group of queer ken truthers #that think so #so idk!#also the actor one is so hard..... what about sarah snook she's insane in that role. what about kieran culkin ! what about #j smith cameron... what about mattmac........#thank you this was a lot of fun to answer!!! <33 i love doing these #ask game #long post

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yugiohio · 1 year

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Shiv is painfully thicc. Like a Blizzard

#i want her im not sorry. she wore me down.#Siobhan roy #shiv roy #Succession #Succession hbo #text post #sarah snook #also i like the faces she makes. and the weird inflections she places on certain words #she's my pathetic meow meow its chrew

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userastarion · 2 years

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“everyone i have cared for has either died or left me. everyone - fucking - except for you! so don’t tell me that i would be safer with someone else, because the truth is i would just be more scared.”

this is my favorite line in the entire game!!!!!! this scene is EVERYTHING to me it distills ellie down Exactly and shows you who she is and what she’s been through and why, even hours and hours into this game, you should care about her. GOD i love it so much. the whole scene is so perfect and especially now with the physical emotional subtleties added by the remake…. FUCK i love this game bye

#honest to god that scene & joel + ellie after david have stuck with me more than almost anything else #like yeah ofc there’s ‘why are the pages all stuck together?’#and WAIT ALSO THE GIRAFFES OKAY THE GIRAFFES TOO THAT SCENE MAKES ME CRY #well alright and also obviously sarah at the beginning but this game is about joel and ellie okay #anyway i have a lot of feelings about them bc they are a FAMILY and i just saw the scene again and i’m. GOD #b:personal #text post

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the-sinking-garden · 1 year

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i wanna be the king

I love this song, but the live version in particular is just like, chef's kiss. Just piano and voice, so obviously way more laid back than the original, but it's way more powerful this way!

#music #fav music #sarah kinsley #live music #piano #spotify #the sinking garden posts #i learned how to do gradient text just so i could make this look better lmao #i rly need to learn html; its way too useful to not know how to use it #queue goes there #Spotify

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eternalxvenus · 1 month

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⇢ ˗ˏˋ broken promises pt. 1 ࿐ྂ

summary: Rafe promised to take you out and spend your birthday with you, but you don’t hear from him all day and then suddenly he shows up at your door trying to explain. (angst version to my first birthday girl blurb) (title changed for series — previous title “birthday girl angst version”)

cw (for whole series): 18+, rafe x f!reader, mentions of drug use, angst, eventual smut, violence

wc: 0.6k

notes: honestly i’m thinking about making this particular blurb a series but i’m not sure though

You woke up on your birthday excited to get your day started. Your boyfriend Rafe told you the day before he would pick you up for brunch, and then you would spend the day doing whatever you wanted.

By the time you showered and were ready to go, your stomach was growling, prepared to have some delicious food. You checked your phone and saw the time read 10:45. Rafe said that he'd be here by 11:00.

30 minutes later, you hadn't heard anything from Rafe, so you decided to call him. Each of your calls went straight to voicemail. You were starting to get worried, so you decided to check social media and see if he may have posted anything. You clicked on Kelce's close friend's story and saw a party happening at his house. A few videos later, you saw one of Rafe doing coke off the table in front of him.

Your eyes start to water. He had promised you that he would stop doing drugs when you guys started dating. You knew it made him irritable and hard to be around. It also made him forgetful, which means he was probably high out of his mind somewhere and probably doesn't remember he promised to take you to brunch. Or the fact that it's your birthday.

You wipe the few stray tears off your cheek, careful not to ruin your makeup, before calling Sarah, inviting her and the pogues to have breakfast with you at your place. When you asked her about Rafe, she said she hadn't spoken to him and didn't know where he was.

The time was currently 10:22 pm, and you had just gotten home from your birthday dinner with your family. Rafe was supposed to be there too, but you had to lie and say he hadn't been feeling well. You could barely enjoy yourself. You still hadn't gotten so much as a text from him.

You slipped off your heels, but before you could make it up the stairs there was a ring at your doorbell. You opened the door to see Rafe standing there with flowers in hand.

"What do you want, Rafe?" You really didn't want to sit around and listen to his excuses.

"Baby, I'm sorry, really. Just please let me explain."

You scoffed but leaned against your doorframe, prompting him to keep going.

"Okay, so Kelce was throwing this party, and I wasn't going to go, but everyone kept messaging me saying I should at least swing by and everything since they hadn't seen me in a while. I went and it was supposed to be no more than 15 minutes, but things got out of hand..."

"Yeah Rafe, things got out of hand as in you stayed at the party and started doing fucking coke? Out of hand as in you got so high you didn't text me all day, on my birthday, while I'm worried sick about you?"

Rafe's eyes widened, obviously not expecting you to know about that. He outstretched his hand that was holding the flowers to you. "Baby I... I'm sorry. I can take you shopping to make up for-"

You smacked the flowers out of his hand and he flinched. Your voice was shaky as tears pooled in your eyes. "No Rafe! Money isn't going to fix this. Obviously, I'm not important enough for you to keep your promise. Getting high means more to you than being there for your girlfriend."

Before he could speak again, you slammed the door in his face and made your way upstairs even as he started to talk to you through the door before moving on to blowing up your phone. You blocked his number and went to bed, unsure of what was next for your relationship.

part 2

likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#rafe cameron fic #outer banks rafe #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron #obx #obx fic #obx x reader #angst #rafe angst #black!reader #black reader #divider by: plutism #black writers #outer banks #blurb #rafe blurb #rafe cameron smut #obx smut

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taylorswiftstylequestions · 5 months

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i have lived 1,000 lifetimes since april 2023 and 998 of them have been during argentina night 2

#sarah makes a text post

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erwinsvow · 3 months

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𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬

summary: how you and rafe got started <3

author's note: if i could stop losing my brain cells over rafe cameron for a minute that would be great but i can't so here it is <3 this is mostly cute but in the shea cinematic universe this establishes the beginning of what can only be a hopelessly codependent relationship <3 more parts to come! also none of this would be written without the surge of inspo i get from reading every single one of @princessbrunette's posts but in particular this one, this one, and this<3 one!

now spinning: one of the girls by the weeknd & jennie

Rafe’s always thought you were cute.

Cute, he’d think to himself in passing, on a hot summer day when he was getting ready to take beers from the fridge and go find the boys at the country club. He didn’t need to steal anything, the waitress at the club always gave him whatever drink he asked for, but he just felt like taking them from the house today.

You were dawdling around the house with a bored Sarah, all dressed up with nowhere to go. Sarah was texting on her phone, likely engaging in a virtual fight with Topper. He’d feel bad, but the two of them did it to themselves. You were at the counter with Wheezie, leaning on your elbows while the two of you discussed something. He didn’t really care, until he met your eyes for a second.

Cute. The way you met his eyes and then looked away, face heating up. You were in a bikini and a coverup, probably waiting for his sister before spending the day on the beach or at the pool. The cover up was white and see through, covering everything to the point where no one could see anything but the faint yellow of your bikini underneath.

Leaning on the counter, when you looked away, he got a glimpse into the top of your dress. He could make out little yellow flowers on the material of your bikini and the outline of your tits squeezed against each other.

He grabbed a beer and opened it with his back tooth, spitting the cap out on the counter next to Wheezie’s book.

“Ew, Rafe, get your spit molecules away from my book.”

“Who reads in the summer anyways? You should be glad for my spit if it makes you stop.”

“It’s my summer reading, Rafe, not everyone can just skip their assignments and get away with it.”

“Please, what have I skipped?”

You and Wheezie turn to look at each other and start laughing. He cracks a smile too, unexpectedly.

“Actually, it’s a great book. You’re missing out, Rafe,” you say, with a smile gracing your face, and he realizes he’s never actually heard the sound of your voice. You’ve maybe said hi to him twice, and both times Sarah had dragged you away within seconds. You even sound cute. His name on your tongue sounds even cuter.

“Really? Maybe I need to give it a try.” You laugh again, meeting his eyes this time.

“You can’t have my copy, I already put my annotations in this one-“

“Stop yapping, Wheeze. I’m not gonna take yours.”

“Actually you have a copy in the library upstairs. I borrowed it last summer.”

“Really, kid? Wanna come find it with me?”

Your face heats up so much you turn away. He smiles then, and he smiles again when you follow him up to the library.

“This one is fantastic too, it’s about this young girl in England-” your voice continues to describe the plot of the book in your hand. You shelve it and then your eyes immediately land on another, another classic, another favorite. You ramble off the description but Rafe’s hardly paying attention.

He’s trying to recall when you had become so cute, so pretty. He thinks he’s never noticed you after you walk away with Sarah, or when he walks away from you two lounging on pool chairs, your nose in a book like always.

This is different. When had you become so irresistible?

Your pretty hair falls down your back. It sticks to your neck when the two of you are outside in the sun, in the heat. He has an urge to lick the sweat off just to see how you’d blush and feel how you’d squirm. Your eyes are warm and bright, but you’re still too shy to meet his blue ones, even when it’s just the two of you.

And it has been. Just the two of you, recently, almost all of the time. Sarah’s always off with her stupid friends and Wheeze is at home doing her summer work.

The two of you travel to every ice cream parlor in the eight in the next few weeks. Conversation comes easily, even though you have nothing in common. He hasn’t picked up a bag from his dealer since he started talking to you, he realizes. Hasn’t felt the need to get high.

You’ve never even smoked weed, much less snorted coke. You’ll drink at a party with Sarah, but not too much, and you always end up being the sober friend holding back the vomiting girl’s hair. At the bonfire that he invites you to, your eyes keep darting around, seeing if anyone needs your help.

Rafe moves so he’s standing right in front of you, blocking your view.

“Hey, kid,” he says quietly, leaning in. You’re boxed in, with Rafe and only Rafe on your mind. The clean, attractive scent of his cologne. The way it lingers on his clothes, like the button up you’re wearing over your pink dress.

He picks up the red cup in your hand and places it on the log beside you, balancing his beer next to it. His hands are cold from the bottle but you don’t mind much. He takes your wrists first, holding them in place, and then slides down so your hands are touching.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” You were looking down at the hands, where the two of you were connected, but his voice makes you look up. He’s looking at you, and you want to hide your face. Your fingers twitch beneath Rafe’s grip. He holds on even tighter. “Don’t look away, princess. We gotta work on that, huh?”

You feel your face heating up at the nickname. You wish you were home so you could scream into your pillow.

“Sorry, sorry,” you scramble, trying to look up but you can’t find the strength or the will.

You’re embarrassed. Of course you are—this is Rafe, and you’re just you. Rafe is the one you’ve had a crush on since you knew what crushes were, and you are still the awkward little thing you were the first time you met him.

His gaze burning holes through you makes you want to run and hide. Because this is Rafe, and right now you’re one of his girls. The ones Sarah’s complained about the whole time she’s known you—they get too attached, act all clingy, and then are replaced before long.

You hear Rafe’s quiet laughter. You’re still boxed in, feeling hot and clammy even though he’d given you his button up not thirty minutes ago because you felt cold.

“What’re you saying sorry for?” You look up quickly, and then look back down. Then Rafe’s hands leave yours, and he holds up your chin until you’re looking right into his eyes. “Hmm?”

You feel like puking.

“I-I just, well I just-”

“You just what?”

“I don’t think I can be, um, be one of your flingy, uh fling-type girls. So, you know, maybe all of this isn’t a good idea.”

“Fling-type girls?” he questions. He’s holding back a laugh, which makes you irrationally upset. You shove hard against his chest to free yourself from the cage of his arms.

“Yes, your fling-type girls. You have a new girl on your arm every week, and everyone knows it, and I refuse to be one of them, because it’s just embarrassing and dehumanizing,” he watches you ramble on. He smiles, but you don’t notice. “And frankly, I deserve better than that.”

“Are you done?” You glare back at him.

“Yes, and not because you said that. I was done anyway.”

“Good.” Your face drops for a second, thinking you overstepped and totally overreached regarding his intentions, but then Rafe surprises you—he leans in and kisses you.

You weren’t expecting a playground peck, but the way he’s kissing you completely surpasses any and all expectations (and fantasies) you’d dreamt up. His grip on your hips is hard, and his tongue is almost down your throat. It’s messy, and wet, and when he pulls away, there’s strings of spit connecting you to each other.

You should wipe your mouth before anyone sees, but you don’t. Your heart is racing, and you can barely speak, much less move.

“If I wanted you to be one of my girls, I wouldn’t have spent the last three weeks listening to you blab about books and buying you ice cream. You’re gonna be my only girl, and that’s that, okay?”

You nod dumbly—words and motions still not quite back yet. You feel flushed. People’s eyes are on you both.

“Now, do you wanna head out and go get a cone?” You nod again. “Good girl. And watch your mouth.”

#eeeeeee #im so nervous about this #anyways if you liked it lmk <3 #the characterization is hard fdsjnajfnj #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks

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saturnberry · 1 year

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little rant but i don't believe the ppl who actually believe in the, "reblog / use this sound / repost and you will get _____." are real. dumb ass sheep is what you are.

#personal #listen i am spiritual and superstitious but that shit is obviously a ploy for interaction and yall know it #the reverse of it i.e. ''youll get bad luck if you dont repost'' i can understand bc of like paranoia but like come on #shut your crystal usin ass up sarah. ofc your crush ain't gonna text you back bc you used a tiktok sound or you're not gonna die bc #you didn't reblog that tumblr post. like who tf would actually cast that #some of yall just fall victim to spiritual shit that makes no sense and then shit on Christians for thinking mary was a virgin.#ill believe god fucked mary more than me getting surprise money from reblogging a post on tumblr

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toadmancer · 1 year

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anyway ive made this post before but u SHOULD read the night angel trilogy if only for durzo "i wanted to pick a cool name for my Assassin Persona but i was drunk and slurred it and it stuck" blint

#how many stupid text posts can i make in 17 minutes #storytime with sarah #tbd

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gayness-and-mayhem · 1 year

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Was watching Last Tango with my ma and she just looked at Sarah Lancashire and said "she's bonny, isn't she?" and she's very much not wrong.

#Idk why she said it exactly she does come out with random stuff at random times #But I thought it was quite sweet #Yes ik another Last Tango In Halifax post #But I've watched it all now so I need more Sarah Lancashire things to watch #If anyone has recommedations I will watch them immediately #Last Tango in Halifax #Sarah Lancashire #Text post #Personal #Also I should probably say despite this making it sound like she's never seen SL before she's watched basically everything she's been in

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whocaresstillthelouvre · 30 days

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Golden Walkway

Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader (Reader is a teacher in Jackson, has long hair.)

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI)

Summary: It’s your birthday, Joel takes you out to the Tipsy Bison, kisses (and does more to) you in the rain, and takes you home to give you a gift (it's sex, the gift is sex). Also, the thought of Joel spitting whiskey in someone's mouth happened and I had to write it out. 🤷🏼‍♀️

Warnings: smut, drinking, consent first, degradation second, followed by so much praise, hair pulling, spitting, Joel calls you a slut, fingering against a brick wall, F receiving oral, I watched that doggy style Narcos gif (for research) a lot, unprotected p in v, apocalypse birth control (pulling out), Joel’s canon age, Reader’s in her 30’s.

Words: 4,300

A/N: Hi! Welcome to my first published fic. I'm currently working on a grander scale fic with these two, I hope to have the first chapter out within the next couple of weeks. I just really wanted to get this out there! Thanks for reading and a big thank you to @ohheypedrito for all of her help and also to our phones for not overheating when I send 40 texts at once with ideas for fics. Hope you enjoy, can't even blame the feralness of this on the full moon.

Edit: I posted the Masterlist for Elks, my work these two are included in.

***

“Was turning 21 as fun as they’d show in movies back then?” You’re cuddled in next to Joel on his couch sketching in your notebook while Joel reads a book about Native Americans that you found him. You always do this, a random question or thought to break the comfortable silence.

“Not for me, bought a 12 pack of Bud Light and split it on my porch with Tommy. Sarah was only a toddler then and I had work in the morning. Didn’t have the money or the time to go to a bar. ‘Course I don’t think a lotta people did anything the way they’d show in the movies.”

“I always wanted to have my 21st birthday at a bar, ya’ know? Wait until the clock strikes midnight and order a weird named shot.”

“Well, I reckon we could do that at the Bison tomorrow night. Might not be your 21st but I’ll get you whatever you want to drink, and the best part is you can drink before midnight.” Joel pulls you in closer and kisses your forehead, “What do you say, let me take you out for your birthday sweetheart.”

“Yes, please,” you sigh into his shoulder, “sounds amazing.”

“Wear that little blue dress I know you have hanging in your closet.”

The drinks flowing through you making you downright giddy, alcohol making you bolder, your body and your inhibitions becoming looser, your hands becoming addicted to touching Joel, first his leg, then his thigh, now his lower stomach, right at his waistband. You haven’t been this tipsy in a long time, your face feeling flushed and red more from your desire than any drink you’ve had tonight.

“You better knock that off before I take you outside in the rain and fuck you against the building, darling,” Joel huffs into your ear. His fiery warning massaging your neck causing your heart rate cooled by your inebriation to pick up.

“Sooo, keep going?” You slur back.

“If that’s what you really want,” Joel puts a forceful squeeze on your upper thigh, a layer of your dress laying between his skin and your skin. If you weren’t both sitting at the bar, and maybe in one of the more darker corners of the saloon you’d surely hike your skirt up and let him learn just how bad you want him.

It feels so good to let go with him, to giggle openly at his jokes, stare at his profile as he talks with a friend or two who stop by to say hello, or place your hand on his broad back just because you want to touch his soft blue denim shirt.

You watch as his tongue darts out and licks the leftover whiskey off his top lip, Joel’s movements becoming a little slower thanks to the amber liquid he’s been drinking all night. Some droplets glisten on his mustache, you fight every urge inside yourself to not lean over and lick them up.

“It’s what I want,” you respond as you move your hand back and forth across his waistband.

“Jesus Christ, I’m about ready to throw you over my shoulder and run home,” Joel says as he takes your hand into his and pulls it away.

“Not so fast. You told me you’d fuck me in the rain, that’s what I want for my birthday,” you whisper into his ear with a breathy giggle.

“Can’t fuck you out here in public. Small town ‘n all, but I’ll make you feel good,” Joel takes a last swig of his drink, puts the glass down and knocks his fist on the bar to let the bartender know you two are leaving. He leans forward and drawls into your ear, “Now finish your drink if you want me to show you just how happy of a birthday I can give you.”

You nod and gulp your drink down. You’re so wet, you don’t know if you’ve ever been this turned on before. Joel grabs your arm with the perfect amount of pressure, you’ve never been so happy to get outside into the pouring rain.

It’s absolutely storming outside, your footsteps sloshing in the puddles on the ground. The rain pelting your’s and Joel’s bodies as you walk through late night Jackson. It feels like you’re the only two people in the whole town as you make your way farther away from the bar. The bulbs of the string lights reflecting off the water gathering on the sidewalks making your path towards Joel’s house golden. You don’t rush, the two of you not scared away by the downpour, the drops cooling your burning skin. Joel turns down the street before his, pulling you behind one of the storage buildings, it’s darker back here, practically pitch black thanks to the rain clouds blocking the moon and the nearest light source being three buildings down. You’re pushed up against the brick, Joel’s hand gently cradling your head to block it from hitting the wall, he’s such a gentleman.

“Happy birthday baby, I need you to tell me you want this, ‘n you’re okay with this, I have plans for you and I need you to tell me you want it.” Joel instructs you, all you can see is his eyes and the faint lines of his facial hair, the rest of him camouflaged by the darkness surrounding the two of you.

“I want it, more than anything. Please,” your voice straining as you beg.

“Tell me you want me to have my way with you,” Joel speaks into your slack mouth as he rubs his arched nose against yours.

“I want you to have your way with me,” you moan against his wet shirt, “so bad.”

“Good girl, now, m’not gonna fuck you here, because I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop and I need to have you in my bed tonight.” Joel starts to move his hand down your body lifting the hem of your dress. “But, you are going to cum for me right here.” Joel captures your mouth with his. His hand starts to trace the outline of your panties, you mew out a cry as his fingers slip through and begin to pet you right where you ache the most. His hands are so big, his fingers so long and thick, always putting the right amount of pressure, moving the way you need him to move. Joel Miller is a capable man, everyone knows that, but nobody, except for you, knows just how capable he is.

Joel sticks a finger in you, though his finger is thick and feels so good, you need more to fill you.

“Another,” you instruct in between fevered kisses. Your pussy clenches as Joel pushes another finger in you. “Yessss,” you moan out against his lips.

“That’s my good girl, gotta get you stretched out f’me.” Joel begins to kiss his way down your chin and neck stopping at your chest, your hard nipples jutting through your wet dress. Joel takes one into his mouth, sucking the fabric and your tit deeper into his mouth. The sloppy wet sounds of Joel’s suctions making you want him more.

“Another finger,” you shudder out. “Three? You really want it tonight, don’t you?” Joel mumbles against your chest as he sticks a third finger in. It burns, it burns in the best way. You’re ready for him, it’s what you’ve been waiting for all night. You bite down on your lip as your legs begin to shake, Joel can tell you’re right on the edge and twists his fingers inside of you as he finger fucks you harder.

Your orgasm bursts forward your whole body going stiff as you try not to wail out into the night.

“That’s iiiiiit baby,” Joel pulls his fingers out of you and softly pets your pussy from hole to clit.

Joel removes his hand from between your legs and brings it up between the two of you resting his finger tips against your lips, you open your mouth and begin to lick. His tongue meeting yours as you both clean his thick digits covered in you. He takes his hand away leaving just your mouths to taste each other. His kiss turns tender, your kiss turns desperate.

Joel pulls away resting his forehead against yours. “My beautiful birthday girl. Let’s get you home, my gift’s not done.”

Your body practically chills with the promise of what is left to come. Joel grabs your hand and you take it depending on him to lead you to his home. Every step you take you feel your wet core heavy with lust, you’re soaked from the rain and from Joel, if you could drown like this, you would go down with the sinking ship. His house comes into view, your body tingling in anticipation at the site as the both of you speed your footsteps up in perfect agreement.

Joel throws open his gate, you’re following so close you almost trip on his heels making your way up his walkway and steps. He fumbles for his keys and unlocks his doors, you take the opportunity to run your hands all over his back and sides, rubbing the wet cloth of his shirt as it molds to his body. The door swings open and you both shuffle into his living room gasps escaping your mouths, both out of breath from your dash home and your mutual want for each other. You step out of your wet shoes and shake your hair out.

“Take your dress off, right now.” Joel huffs out as he tosses his keys on the console table and begins to kick his boots off.

You strip yourself of your baby blue frock as fast as you can. You’ve never had a reason to wear such a revealing piece of clothing. You don’t know why you held onto it, let alone grabbing it from the communal clothing rack, never thinking anything, or anyone, would be worthy enough for you to dress up for. Joel’s worthy, so worthy.

“Feel like I’m a little underdressed here…” your words grab Joel’s attention as he moves his hands up to his chest to begin to unbutton his denim shirt. He gets one button taken care of before he rips it open. Shame, it’s your favorite shirt, you'll have to fix it for him later. You watch as a button rolls underneath a table, before you can note where it lands, your attention turns back to Joel to find him stepping out of his jeans and underwear leaving him completely naked.

What a sight, what a fucking sight. There’s only a lamp on in the room, Joel’s body being cast in amber color and shadow, one side of him on full display glowing in the light, the other more difficult to discern. He moves forward stalking you. “Now I’m the underdressed one here. Take them off for me,” he says as he moves to pick up a bottle of whiskey from his shelf.

You follow his instructions shucking your underwear down your legs and leaving them pooled at your feet.

“Good girl,” Joel says as he begins to walk towards you unscrewing the lid off the bottle. He stands in front of you and takes a drink. “Open your mouth,” he orders as he grabs your hair and tips your head back. He takes another pull from the bottle, this time he raises his mouth over your mouth and begins to dribble drips of whiskey down from his mouth into yours. A moan raises from your throat, causing Joel to tighten his hold on your hair and arch your head back even more. He spits the rest of the whiskey straight into your mouth, you happily swallow his spit and liquor down. He unwinds his hands from your hair, takes another drink and kisses you, the whiskey and his tongue spilling into your mouth. Joel pulls back and takes his last swig before resting the bottle on the table. “Get upstairs.”

You don’t think you’ve ever run so fast in your life, tripping over your feet as you rush your way up, Joel’s naked form hunting you like prey up each step.

The sight of Joel’s bed brings a new wave of goosebumps to your skin.

“Bend over on the bed darlin,” Joel turns on a lamp in the corner and pulls it closer. “Need to lick and fuck you with my tongue.”

You move over to Joel’s side of the bed and bend forward, your ass sitting high in the air and your face in the sheets, you inhale the smell of Joel on his sheets. You swing your hips in giddy anticipation of what’s about to happen.

You feel his body lean over yours, his erection laying over your lumbar. “Okay baby, once again, need you to tell me you’re good with me having my way with your body,” he tempts into your ear.

“Fuck, y—yes, fuck, of course I am good. So good.”

“That’s my girl,” Joel’s heavy body lifting off of yours as he kneels between your legs. You feel his hot breaths on you where you’re aching for him the most, you widen your stance egging him on to touch you. “Look at you,” Joel licks your thigh, “so fuckin’ wet you’ve spilled out into your thighs.”

You scream a pleasured yell as Joel’s teeth bite down into the flesh of your thigh and sucks your skin into his mouth. The pain is perfect. He loosens his bite, kissing and licking the spot, the sensation making your body quiver.

“Okay baby?”

“Y-y-yessss,” you answer.

“Whaddo you need sweetheart?”

“Lick me,” you beg out, “please.”

“‘Course. Where do you want me to lick you?” Joel questions as he nuzzles his head against your ass cheek, giving it a small bite.

“My pussy. Pleeeaaase,” you’d say you sound pathetic but you couldn’t care less, your lust overshadowing any type of pride.

“Mm, you sound so needy baby, you sound like you really need my tongue on you, huh?” His teasing drawl drives you crazy, your body won’t stop moving, absolutely radiating tensity from your want.

“Please,” you implore, sobbing out.

“Alright baby,” his hands grab your cheeks and spreads them, widening his view of you. “Prettiest thing I ever seen, love your pussy.”

This act feels so depraved, everything on display for him, legs and cheeks spread wide, your pussy exhibited for him like it’s an art piece.

You literally scream into the bed, biting down on Joel’s comforter as his tongue finally meets your core. This, thiiiiiiis is what you’ve been wanting all night. Joel moans against you, not being able to hold himself back as he tastes you, his fevered licks exploring your cunt, his large tongue mapping every inch of you. He’s absolutely conquering you, the noises of his lips and tongue smacking against your wetness soundtracking his journey.

He can feel you getting close your hips beginning to cant as your orgasm begins to crest. You knew it wouldn’t take long, between the alcohol buzz and Joel’s tongue lapping up your wetness and cum from earlier, you knew you’d be a goner.

“Mmf, cum for me,” Joel speaks against you, his mouth full of you, too busy to pull away to clearly speak. You don’t think he can get any closer to you, his tongue working your orgasm up in intensity with each swirl and dash against your clit. You feel it, it’s here. Your legs instantly collapse, thankful that the rest of your body is resting on the bed. Your eyes tightly squeeze shut and then begin to rapidly blink as your orgasm shatters through you. Joel flattens his tongue against your clit as it pulses. You’re too turned on to make a noise, Joel stepping in for you and groaning as your juices seep out of you.

“Did so good baby,” Joel says leaving one last kiss on your clit before standing up behind you. You want to flip over to look at him, you haven’t seen his face since you laid down on the bed. You have no energy, you’re just a shell of a woman, the only sensations you can feel is the pool of wetness in between your legs and your light inebriation.

Your attention gets pulled to the sound of Joel spitting in his hand, followed by a hiss coming out of his mouth. When you realize exactly what he’s doing, you summon the strength needed to turn over. You flip over, your back thudding on the mattress your legs still spread wide, feet resting on the floor. And there…. there…. THERE he is, standing in the middle of his room, one large hand wrapped around his hard cock softly stroking as he watches you with hooded eyes. You know you just came, but the sight makes your pussy clench with desire.

Joel jerks himself off as his eyes roam your exhausted form. “Been thinking ‘bout this all day. You all laid out in front of me heaving for air after cummin’ all over my tongue,” slow strokes matching his lazing words. “Just about canceled our night out when you opened your door in that little blue dress, looked like you were wearing the sky, baby.”

You bite your lip as all of your senses are so overtly overwhelmed by lust. The sight of Joel’s handsome face watching you, the hazel flecks in his eyes twinkling in the golden light of the lamp. The smell of the rain on your skin mixed with the heady scent of your arousal and Joel’s sheets. The taste of Joel’s whiskey tongue still in your mouth. The sound of Joel’s fist pumping along his hard cock. The feel of the aftershocks of your orgasm still quaking your body. It’s so fucking much, you need Joel inside you. The thought of feeling him stretch you causes a whimper.

“Yeah baby? Havin’ a hard time over there?” Joel stops stroking his hard length, his hand pauses on his shaft. “You want me to fuck you now?”

“Pleeeease,” you keen out.

“Alright sweetheart.” Joel confidently strides over to you, dick still in hand. He stops right at the edge of your feet. “Turn back around ’n get on all fours in the middle of the bed f’me.”

You follow his instructions eager to please. The sooner you get this done, the sooner you can feel Joel enter you.

“Good girl,” he praises as the mattress dips lower with his weight behind you.

Your heart is pounding so loud, your whole body thrumming, you gulp down a breath of air trying to calm your need. You feel Joel’s cock brush against your ass cheek, he’s so close to fucking you.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna fuck you real good and hard now. Happy birthday baby.”

And just like that, Joel buries his cock inside of you, you’re absolutely stretched around him. Your clit already worked over by Joel’s tongue, now your hole deliciously stinging while it flutters around his cock. He begins thrusting, tender and slow full strokes. Entering and exiting, swirling the head of his cock right at the entrance before plunging back in because he knows you love the feeling. Joel’s groans and your cries join in song as he begins to pound faster, the sound of your bodies slapping together match the rhythm.

“Feel so fucking good, always so perfect for me. S’a good girl, always take it so good,” Joel grits out.

He grabs your hair and wraps it around his fist as he pounds into you. “No one knows how fucking slutty you get for me behind these walls. They think you’re one of those innocent little teachers.” Joel pulls your hair harder causing a scream of ecstasy from you. “You love this, don’t you?”

You do. It’s so rough, so different from how gentle he always is with you. It feels like a luxury to be treated this way by him.

“Y-y-y-yes, God I love it,” you whimper.

“That’s right. That’s what I like to hear. So pretty so smart. So much smarter than me, now I’m makin’ you stupid with my cock, right baby?”

Everybody knows Joel Miller as the strong, silent type, a man of few words, somebody who doesn’t do chit chat. But with you in his bed naked and wailing as he slams into you, Joel Miller won’t shut up.

“Doin’ so good for me. So pretty, so perfect f’me. So wet for me.”

“You made me so wet earlier, I was afraid I was going to leave a mark on the barstool.” Your words coming out as tortured weeps, so lost in your ecstasy you struggle with every word spoken.

“Fuuuuuck.” That got him good. He pounds you even harder, the bed frame shaking violently against his wall, your body and cunt acting as if it’s the only barrier between Joel knocking a hole in the plaster. “Had I fuckin’ known I would have made you stick your face on that chair and made you lick yourself up as I fuck you against it.”

That’s it, that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. Joel’s deep timbered accent grunting those deviant words as he grabs you and begins to roll his hips into your cunt. Your body is strung so tight and rigid in all places besides your hips and core, pumping and rolling along with Joel’s as he fucks you. You’re close again, your panting breaths letting Joel know.

“Baby, if you gotta cum, cum,” his grip on your hips pressure into you.

“Going … going.. going to,” the only words you can say as your third orgasm radiates out of your body, your pussy is the epicenter, tingles firing through your veins, your hands fisting the blankets at your detonation. Slack jawed and fucked senseless you rally the strength to not disintegrate and fall into Joel’s bed. Your world has been shattered by Joel, but your body survives for him, your legs and arms shaking under gravity and your weight as they deal with the fallout.

“C’mere baby, lemme help you.” Of course he can tell you’re struggling. He reaches his hands around, clutching your stomach and pulling you up against him. Your back up against his chest, his hand seeking out your breast, the other wrapping around your torso and clutching you to him. He holds you as he fucks into you, his nose brushing against your ear as he puffs and grunts against your neck. “Fucking. Love. You. So. Much.” Each word matching a thrust into you. Your hands find his and grip them, you’ve never felt more loved and protected. Joel Miller has got you.

You feel the familiar shudder in Joel’s movements as he edges close to his climax. His labored breaths getting louder and more fevered against your neck. You’re absolutely wrecked, but the angle of Joel’s cock inside of you mixed with the feeling of the shudder in his movements as he edges himself brings forth another orgasm. Words are gone, just sounds, whatever your throat can muster up and out of your mouth.

“That’s it, that’s it, that’s it,” Joel repeats. His hands squeezing yours so tightly, his chest heaving against your back, his strong thighs straddling yours, his nose pressing into your ear. You feel his body tense as he pulls out. His release coating your pussy as his whole body surrounds you. Hot breaths huffing against the side of your face in between featherlight kisses. “Love you,” a whisper in your ear so delicate and sweet as he lets go of your hands. Your body falling forward without his support, your arms catching you before crashing down on the bed. Joel gets up with a groan as you lay yourself down on your stomach, taking the opportunity to stretch your legs out before rolling over on your side to watch Joel. He stands arms akimbo in the middle of the room. He’d look like a Greek statue if his shoulders weren’t rising and falling rapidly as he catches his breath. He’s gorgeous and he looks just as wrecked as you feel.

“Probably shouldn’t have gotten up as quick as I did,” he chuckles. “Damn well feel like I’m standing in the middle of a earthquake.” You love the casual banter he puts forth seconds after being deep inside you, his cum still covering your core. This is love.

You smile at him, your cheek resting on your hand as a makeshift pillow. You’re exhausted… the whole night and your four orgasms catching up with you. Eyes feeling heavy, matching your limbs you begin to drift off.

A wet sensation in between your legs jerks you awake. “Sorry baby, just want to clean you up,” a whisper just as light as Joel’s tender attention as he washes you lulls you back to sleep.

“Baby,” Joel’s low voice gently wakes you up along with a soft kiss to your forehead.

You groan as you stretch your sore muscles under the sheet, opening your eyes to find Joel gazing down lovingly at you. He’s backlit by the filtered morning sunlight shining in through his bedroom windows. What a way to wake up. “Happy birthday sweetheart, I’d let you sleep all day but I need to give you my present.” His face is so bright and cheerful, a boost in your confidence provided by just how happy he looks when he’s with you.

“Thought you gave me your present already last night,” you yawn.

“Sweet girl, that was a present for both of us. Now come on, get up.” You grab his offered hand and reluctantly get out of bed. Joel wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug, his hands splayed across your back as you nuzzle your face in his warm chest. “Happy birthday.”

A/N: THANK YOU for reading my first ever fic. My inbox is always open. :)

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